Hidden In Plain Sight.
Chapter Seventeen.
The two guards didn't move. They were retired soldiers, who, in 1974, aged eighteen, had signed up to sixteen years in the regular army and completed two tours of Northern Ireland, having witnessed violence in the form of killings, street battles and the devastation that bombs could inflict.
But as far as the torture of another human being was concerned they'd only ever heard of it, but never been party to it. Staring at each other now, they instinctively knew they weren't going to start now. And having just discovered they were in the employ of a clearly psychopathic, ex SS Gestapo officer too, they began backing away towards the open kitchen door.
Scheel's eyes narrowed as he watched them, his lips curling into a vicious sneer. Reaching into his jacket he drew out a small Kel-Tec P-32 pocket pistol and pointed it straight at them.
"You two mealy mouthed cowards will do as you're told or I'll kill you, so help me!" he snarled.
They stopped, continuing to stare blankly at him, a feeling of so near yet so far washing over them as they realised their own revolvers were holstered, there being no time to draw them and fire back.
"Looks as though your two playmates don't want to play any more, Scheel." said Raif. "Wise men."
Scheel turned back to Raif, walked over to him and pistol whipped him, slicing open his cheek, blood immediately oozing from the wound. In that instant, the two guards made a dash from the room, Scheel spinning round and firing off two rounds at them, both bullets missing and embedding themselves in the door frame.
Rushing out through the front door, they suddenly came up face to face with Spud and his team. For the second time in as many minutes they had guns in their faces and raised their arms immediately in surrender.
"What's goin' on in there!?" asked Spud under his breath, his head close to theirs and his eyes boring holes in them.
"Th..the boss got s..some bloke strapped down." came the stammered reply. "W..we don' want no part of it."
"Is it jus' the two of 'em in there?" asked Cutter. The two guards nodded.
"An' where are them dogs?" asked Spud.
"Roamin' about somewhere." replied a guard.
Spud cocked the hammer of his gun and pressed it against the forehead of one of the guards.
"Yeah? Well, dickhead 'ere better go get 'em an' put 'em away fer the night, eh?" said Spud, glaring at the other guard. "An' do it quietly! When yer back 'ere, you an' yer mate can piss off out of it. If yer leg it, I'll kill 'im. Okay?"
The other guard quickly ran off into the darkness, reappearing a few minutes later and confirming that the two Rottweilers were safely in their kennels.
"Sod off then!" said Spud. "An' don' make no noise neither. Got that!?"
As they watched the two terrified guards sprint away, a scream suddenly broke the silence. Spud looked at the other three and nodded towards the front door, all four moving silently and swiftly into the hallway and across to the kitchen.
Raif was writhing in pain, as Scheel spinkled salt into a wide gash on his inner thigh, then grinned as he rubbed it in.
"Ah, come come now Mr Fitzallan." said Scheel. "It's not too painful is it? Perhaps I should open this scratch on your thigh a little wider with a pair of my pliers. Stripping some more skin from you will be excrutiating, I fear, but if you just tell me what I want to know, all will be fine, my friend."
"D..do your worst, you Nazi scum." muttered Raif through gritted teeth, his eyes closed, his head bowed and chin drooping to his chest, the pain in his wound unbearable. "You, you'll get noth..nothing from me."
"Nah, yer won'!" said Spud, his gun raised and aimed directly at Scheel, who spun round, startled and stared at the barrel pointing straight at his head. "Cutter, untie that bloke and let him go."
Cutter did as he was told, Raif limping over to where his clothes had been dumped and slowly getting dressed.
"Now, you Kraut bastard, kick that peashooter over 'ere an' sit in that chair!" instructed Spud and covered Scheel as he dropped his pistol and kicked it across the floor. "Danny, tie 'im down. It's his turn now."
Scheel remained silent throughout, his brain whirling, trying to figure a way out of this predicament.
"Do you know who I am?" he eventually asked.
"Yeah we know." replied Dave. "You had my partner tortured, then you had some scumbags break into our business and trash our stock of expensive cars. And all because your wanker of a son couldn't keep his wife satisfied."
"Ah well now, if it's a question of money gentlemen, just fetch me my chequebook." said Scheel, smoothly and smiling round at them. "Name your price."
His answer came in the form of a bullet shattering a kneecap. He screamed in pain, a look of shock and bewilderment on his face.
"Money ain't what Paul Lewis wants." said Spud. "Revenge. Now, that's more to his likin'. An' we're gonna take our time dishin' it out."
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After Dempsey and Harry had watched Spud and his three cohorts creep along the side of the house, their backs sliding along the brickwork, guns drawn into their chests and pointing to the heavens, they decided to shadow them. Nothing was to be gained by confronting them.
As soon as the quartet had disappeared round the corner of the house and were making their way to the front door, Dempsey and Harry sprinted across the lawn and positioned themselves in the same space just vacated by the four men. They were about to venture further when two shots rang out.
"Jesus! What in the hell's goin' on in there!?" whispered Dempsey as he quickly popped his head out, rapidly withdrawing it again.
"What's the matter? What did you see Dempsey?" queried Harry.
"There's six of 'em round there!" he replied. "Looks like Scheel's guards have tried to make a run for it an' come up against those other four guys."
"What!?" exclaimed Harry. "Why would they be making a run for it?"
"I dunno, Makepeace." replied Dempsey. "Maybe it's gettin' too hot in there if Scheel is about to get to work on Raif."
"Oh God!" said Harry, imagining all manner of scenarios. "We can't just stand here Dempsey! We've got to do something!"
"Like what!?" replied Dempsey. "We ain't takin' on six of 'em! What you on? A death wish!?"
He peered round the corner again, this time witnessing Spud pressing his gun to the head of a guard and the other running quickly off into the darkness.
Suddenly he felt Harry's hand gripping his wrist and turned to look at her.
"What the...?"
He stood very still and stared into the blazing eyes of the two panting Rottweilers, their teeth bared, low gutteral growls emanating from the depths of their bodies. He gently slipped his arm around Harry's waist and slowly drew her to him, feeling her body shaking and knowing her legs would buckle if he didn't hold her up.
The two animals and the two human beings stared at each other in silence, not a muscle moving in any of them. The dog's tongue's would regularly wipe the saliva from their mouths, then hang out to one side as they panted, their bodies poised for attack.
Then an almost inaudible whistle could be heard and instantly the dogs were gone.
Harry clung to Dempsey, gradually calming down. She was a brave lady, fiesty and tough but the thought of being torn to pieces by dogs was a fear she couldn't suppress no matter how hard she might try.
After a few minutes, she let go of Dempsey and leaned against the wall, her eyes closed, giving herself a little time for her breathing to level up.
"You okay honey?" asked Dempsey.
She nodded, then jumped as a scream ricocheted through the still night air.
"Come on Makepeace," urged Dempsey, "time we took control of this goddamn mess!"
They ran to the front door and stopped, peering cautiously inside, noticing the empty hallway and voices coming from the kitchen. Weapons drawn and creeping quietly across the carpeted floor, they backed themselves up against the door jam, one opposite the other and listened.
They had arrived just at the point when Scheel was threatening to strip skin off Raif's thigh with his pliers only to be surprised by Spud and his gang.
Dempsey gestured to Harry that he was going to take a quick look and peeked into the room, darting his head back almost immediately. He looked across at Harry and put his forefinger up, indicating that they should wait. She frowned back at him but accepted his instruction. Then she understood why.
Scheel was cornered, had been made to sit in the chair recently vacated by Raif and was now attempting to buy his way out.
When Spud then shot him in his kneecap, Dempsey looked over at Harry again and put up three fingers, slowly counting them down to nil. At that point they both stepped into the doorway, weapons pointing directly ahead and clasped in both hands.
"Police!" yelled Dempsey, cocking the hammer of his Magnum. "All of ya, drop ya guns! Now!"
Nobody moved.
Dempsey fired into the air, blowing a hole in the ceiling, pieces of wood and plaster raining down in a shower.
"I ain't messin' here!" he shouted.
The guns clattered to the floor.
"Hands on ya heads. Now!" he exclaimed. "Raif, you okay?"
Raif nodded as the gang obeyed Dempsey.
"Get their shooters will ya." instructed Dempsey. "Okay you guys, turn 'round slowly an' look at me."
Each man did as he was told.
"Who's leadin' this mob?" asked Dempsey.
"He is." replied Dave, nodding his head towards Spud.
"So what in the hell're ya doin' here?"
"I'm Paul Lewis's partner." replied Dave. "We got these blokes together to sort that Steele out. He put Paul in hospital and trashed our stock of motors."
"We weren't gonna kill 'im, copper." said Spud. "Nah, not gonna do that."
"What were you going to do with him?" asked Raif.
"We were gonna make 'im suffer bad." replied Spud. "Eye for an eye an' all that bollocks."
"Yeah, well I guess he's had it comin' for too long." replied Dempsey, glaring at Scheel who, by now, looked like a broken man, visions of his future almost causing him to weep. Dempsey reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a card." Here, Raif, put a call in to this number."
Raif took the card, went over to a telephone hanging on the wall and dialled.
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A few hours later, Harry and Dempsey were back at Freddy's Belgravia mansion, Raif having been taken by ambulance to hospital and Spud and his gang into police custody, the latter eventually being jailed for up to eight years for breaking and entering and causing grevious bodily harm. Dave was given a suspended sentence on the grounds that he was basically a bystander and hadn't any previous convictions. Given that he and Paul walked the line with the criminal underworld, it was an astonishing let-off!
As for Kurt Scheel, he'd been shackled and placed in an isolation cell for his own good, the authorities fearful he might commit suicide if left unattended. To that end, a prison officer would rattle open his viewing spyhole every five minutes to check on him, something that was akin to the 'drip drip' of the so-called Chinese water torture after a short while, the constant clanging of metal sliding across metal enough to drive any sane person nuts.
Madeleine and Arthur had been allowed to see him for a few minutes, Arthur in tears, but Madeleine cold towards him and uncaring. She only went as support for her son, having been told of Scheel's true past and still reeling from the knowledge that he'd been one of Hitlers nastiest SS officers.
She twisted the knife another turn by telling him she was a Jewess by birth, something which not only made him physically sick such was his hatred of that race, but caused him to disown Arthur, seeing as he had Jewish blood running through his veins.
She filed for divorce immediately and contacted the national newspapers, many of whom got into a bidding war for her story. Once it broke, Kurt Scheel was well and truly exposed for the brutal, vicious, anti-semetic murderer he was, Raif also telling his story, in particular how Helen had been tortured by Scheel, finally losing her life in Ravensbruk. Freddy was drawn into the picture too as part of Raifs story and told of Jonny Creighton's death at the hands of Scheel, although Theresa was never mentioned. Raif had seen to that and agreed with Freddy that she'd paid her dues with her life and should be allowed to rest in peace.
Raif recovered from his injuries and returned home a restored and liberated man, the heavy, black cloud that had been hanging over his life for fifty years now eradicated. It wasn't long before he'd met a stunning red-head, a divorced journalist in her mid-forties, and settled into a blissful, happy and fulfilled relationship with her. Helen still occupied a special place in his heart however and would always remain there, venturing out from his memory in quiet, solitary moments.
Diagnosed as mentally unbalanced, Scheel was tried, jailed for life and sent to Broadmoor. He wasn't quite insane when he was admitted and, as such, his life became a living hell.
Georgina also filed for divorce from Arthur, citing unreasonable behaviour and mental cruelty and continued her relationship with Paul Lewis once the journalistic spotlight on her had been extinguished.
Arthur sold the business for millions and moved, with his mother, to a luxurious villa overlooking the Mediterranean at Cap Ferrat in the South of France. Hilda visits sometimes, but only when Georgina is sure Madeleine is there throughout her stay, not wishing for her daughter to spend any down time alone with her father seeing as he took little interest in her when she was in his life.
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Having tucked Alex up in bed, Billy the hippo snuggled close to her chest, Dempsey read her a story or two until her eyelids drooped and closed as she fell into a deep sleep.
He strolled back into the kitchen where Harry was busy cooking their evening meal. She glanced at him and poured him a glass of red wine.
"She asleep now?" she asked, taking it over to where he'd sat down on the spacious sofa and handing to him.
"Sure is honey." replied Dempsey, smiling whilst accepting the glass and with his other hand pulling Harry down next to him. Caught off balance she flopped onto the sofa and laid her head on the soft cushion behind her, her blue eyes beginning to sparkle as he lent in to kiss her lips. Her arms went up around his neck and she began to moan as his hand found her breast, her body beginning to tingle as he caressed her.
"James." she whispered, her lips continuing to brush his. "Dinner will be ruined."
"Wanna make a baby?" he whispered back.
"Oh yes." she panted.
"We'll get a take out." he replied as he gently scooped her legs onto the sofa and laid her down.
The End.